


His face after football

by grantaire2d2 (improbable_endings_of_stadust_and_song)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, High School, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, My First Fanfic, Teenlock, molliarty - Freeform, mystrade
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-26
Updated: 2013-08-16
Packaged: 2017-11-22 11:57:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/609576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/improbable_endings_of_stadust_and_song/pseuds/grantaire2d2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Watson play on the football team, is friends with all the 'cool' kids and all the teachers, has about a dozen girls chasing him and for some reason he decided to be Sherlock Holmes's best friend… which is great, Sherlock just wishes it was more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 3 am

**Author's Note:**

> I own none of the character they all belong to the BBC as does the show 'Sherlock'. I own nothing.
> 
> Ok so I'm new to this and I don't really know what I'm doing so if you see something a bit not good it would be very helpful to me if you'd leave a comment. I just started the story and don't really know where it's going by if you are reading this I really hope you enjoy it. It's my first fanfic and I'm trying.

3 am

 

   The alarm clock was evil. Pure, undeniable, evil.

 

   Sherlock Holmes sighed. It was muffled by his thick blankets but it was there. He knew of corse that his alarm clock wasn't really evil and the glowing green figures weren't actually out to get him but that's the way it felt. He couldn't sleep and there stood a little black box of plastic telling him just how long he had been dreaming. Wide awake, but dreaming. 

 

    It was stupid really. Sherlock was just another stupid 16-year-old wasting his time. Everyone who'd ever met the 17-year-old football star of Bridge-dale high knew that John Watson was straight. Amazing and funny and handsome and kind hearted and brave and... and... straight.  But then there was Sherlock, lying awake at three am, staring at the dark ceiling and wishing that everyone was wrong.  

 

   Sherlock sighed again before slipping out of bed and picking up his phone with one hand as he expertly made his way to the kitchen. His baggy pajama pants and old, worn t-shirt were the sort of thing his parents wouldn't want him to be caught dead in, and that was exactly why he wore them. He smiled at himself, being all 'normal' and rebelling against his parents. They would be asleep in their room by now, all the way on the other side of the house. Mycroft had left to spend the night at his 'friend' Gregory Lestrade's house so that they could 'study' for some university thing Sherlock profoundly didn't care about. Basically Sherlock was alone.

 

    He padded across the room to the stools lined up in a row along the counter and felt the cold tiled floor beneath his feet fall away as he sat down and unlocked his phone with a slid of his finger across the brightly glowing screen. He hadn't been surfing the net for more then five minutes when he got a text. 

 

' **Hey, can I come sleep at your place tnight? Me n Greg went to that party u said was stupid n Greg left wit some girl and he was my ride n Im rlly close to urs n I don't hav money for the bus n I may be slightly... umm tipsy - JW** '

 

    Sherlock half smiled before texting back.

 

**'Wouldn't be the first time. Sure, you know the drill - SH'**

**'Second window, right wing, if ur folks find out we'r both dead, don't let that hapen - JW'**

**'I have taught you well young one - SH'**

**'Im older then u! - JW'**

**'Then why are you outside in the cold while I am sensibly inside in my pajamas? - SH'**

**'I said older not "more sensible" - JW'**

**'I just had to point it out anyway - SH'**

**'Oh Shut up n come open the window - JW'**

   Sherlock smiled and got up. He traced the familiar path to the ground floor window he used for letting John sneak in, it really happened quite a lot. John was Sherlocks best friend and Sherlock was always getting dragged into whatever John got himself into. This was of course absolutely nothing compared to all the times John had been dragged into whatever Sherlock was up to but still, it was three am. If Sherlock was a normal person he would be asleep by now... If he was a normal person who hadn't spent the last few hours thinking about John Watson.

 

    John Watson was of course completely oblivious and also outside getting colder and colder by the minute. Sherlock saw him standing on the lawn and flipped the little latch that locked the large glass window when the young Holmes was away. 

 

   "Bloody hell it is freezing out there" said John Hamish Watson as he hurried into the warm house.

 

    "Yes" agreed Sherlock closing and locking the entrance as soon as his friend was inside "it is". 

 

     "Ya sorry 'bout this" said John running a hand through his hair "we're you asleep?" 

 

     "Almost" said Sherlock half guiltily. It was a lie of course. He had been nowhere near sleep.

 

    John grinned at him before starting upstairs to Sherlock's room "Only you mate, only you" 

 

    Sherlock followed and soon John was in a pair of Sherlock's pajama and the two where lying on the bed. Sherlock was continually catching himself staring at Johns hair, it was very dangerous and he was annoyed with himself for not keeping his eyes on the ceiling. Didn't he know the friendship that was worth more then anything to him would be completely ruined if John ever found out how he felt? Didn't he understand how desperately he needed to look away? Didn't Johns hair look ten times better all ruffled and messy? 

 

    Sherlock gave up 'not looking'. He was fighting a loosing battle with himself anyway, and John never noticed things anyway so Sherlock was fine. He allowed himself to stare at the the other teenagers face until John broke the silence.

 

   "Right. I need sleep. So do you for that matter and don't tell me you had a nap or something because I'll know you're lying." 

 

    Sherlock smiled as they crawled under the thick winter blankets, he didn't need to be asked twice to share a bed with John.

 

        The teenage genius  was warm and contented. He didn't need any thing more then this and he was stupid for wanting it. He was perfectly happy to lie here with his best friend John. 

 

    It was a lie but that didn't matter. _For tonight_  he thought _it's fine_.


	2. Tea and an apple

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I took a while to update this :$

Tea and an apple 

 

     When the alarm clock went off it was 6:30. When Sherlock pushed John out of bed it was 6:40. By the time John had taken a pain killer for his hangover (he said it wasn't that bad because he hadn't actually been that drunk but Sherlock made him take it anyway) and Sherlock had made sure both his parents had already left for work, the clock read 6:52 , and the clock was five minutes slow. 

 

    "I can't believe we actually have to be at school by 7:40 all for this stupid assembly thing" grumbled John from one of the bar stools Sherlock had been sitting on less then 4 hours ago. 

 

    Sherlock was up making tea and since John couldn't see his face he smiled at his friends cliché teenage boy hatred of mornings and school. 

 

     It was sort of cute the way John pouted when Sherlock brought him his tea and reminded him it wouldn't be so bad if he hadn't been drinking the night before, it was very cute the way Johns shortish brown hair stood up after he'd slept on it, and it was positively adorable the way John indignantly picked up his tea as he told Sherlock to shut up.

 

    "You sound like my mother" said John.

 

    "Your mother is a lovely soprano" replied Sherlock.

 

    "Not what I meant" 

 

    "You should have been more precise then"

 

    "Not what I meant _and you knew it_ " 

 

    Sherlock grinned "I don't know what you're talking about".

 

     "Are you really making me have a conversation at 7 in the morning?" Asked John smiling in spite of himself "you're evil". Sherlock took a sip of his tea "I prefer the term morally inadequate". 

 

     John laughed and the two teenagers finished their tea and each took an apple from the basket on the counter. 

 

••~~~~~~~~~~~~~••

 

     "Do you ever have anything for breakfast other than tea and an apple?" Asked John.

 

    They were standing at the bus stop at the end of the street. They had already gotten dressed, Sherlock had lent John a t-shirt and he was wearing his jeans and hoodie from the night before.

 

    They were waiting for the bus to come but as they knew it was more then likely going to be late, it always was. John lived a block away from the school so he could pick up his books and backpack and whatever else he needed and still be on time to class. Sherlock looked up from his phone.

 

    "Umm, not really no. Why?" 

 

    "Well don't you ever get tired of eating the same thing every day?" 

 

   "No"

 

   "Huh. I would. I like switching things up from time to time" 

 

    Sherlock half smiled and rolled his eyes before turning his attention back to his phone. This was very very true. John hadn't been able to keep a girlfriend for more than a month. Disappointingly that little fact wasn't discouraging any of the dozen or so girls following him around 24/7. Whenever John got a girlfriend for about 5 days they would be totally smitten over each other, then John would go back to normal, the girl would get upset and the relationship would go downhill until one of them finally decided to put the thing out of its misery. 

 

    The bus finally pulled up and Sherlock and John each got on and found seats near the back. They were both busy on their phones when John spoke up. 

 

    "Hey you know that girl who had the hugest crush on you last year?" 

 

    Sherlock looked up quickly in confusion before John added "Somebody Adler?" 

 

    Of course. "Irene" said Sherlock looking down again "that whole ordeal was rather tedious. She switched schools right? What about her?" 

 

    "Apparently she got expelled from her new school for sleeping with the superintendents daughter." 

 

    Sherlock half smiled. "Sounds like something she'd do"   

 

   "Ya" said John reading further into the text he'd gotten. "Says here she was one of those really popular girls but then after she slept with this girl the principal somehow found out she had secrets regarding half the students in the school on her phone just I case anyone tried to bring down her social standing. She wasn't starting gossip about anyone but if she wanted to she could have caused some major drama."

 

    Sherlock smirked as he continued to look at the bright blue screen resting in his hands. He remembered Irene, she had been clever but much to emotional. She had quite obviously had a crush on him and that was strange in itself. She had been a lot like all his other boring classmates. However there was an incident in the second grade in which she had actually beaten him in a spelling bee, and that had been _very_ strange. For a whole 3 months she had been referred to as "the girl who beat Sherlock Holmes". It had not been fun. 

 

    The bus pulled up at the corner of Bridge-dale high and Sherlock and John got out and turned in the direction of John's house. Less then twenty minutes later they were pushing open the doors to their high school.

 

    Sherlock sighed, just a bit. It was another day of high school. He put away his phone and walked in. _High school._  



	3. bridge dale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER :$ this was actually on my mobile which got broken and had to be fixed and I just got it back a few days ago sorry

Bridge-dale

 

   Bridge-Dale was a lot like any other high school. The classes were boring, the teachers were boring and most of the students were boring. Sherlock was widely regarded as 'weird' but some of John's friends hung around with him and some people he had helped out. He was the schools official genius and even though he was considered strange if someone really needed something figured out they would present there case to Sherlock.

   There had been an overdose in their freshman year that Sherlock had traced back to a bad ecstasy dealer. His cover was driving a cab but that didn't pay well enough so he started dealing. Then there had been those Chinese exchange students who had been rather upset when someone in their clique 'The black lotus' had stolen some of their authentic jewelry. And of course there had been the whole Jim Moriarty thing.

   Jim Moriarty had pretty much run the school. He knew all the dealers, all the bullies, all the vandals and he had spies everywhere. He and Sherlock had pretty much been at war for a while but Jim had mellowed out and pretty much renounced his throne since he'd stared dating Molly Hooper.

   As Sherlock opened his locker and grabbed his books before noticing the skinny boy with big ears standing beside him. "Morning" said the boy. "Morning Henry" replied Sherlock. Henry Knight's father had been a scientist who had been murdered by a colleague. Sherlock had found out and Henry had been very grateful, they were sort of friends.

   They met John at his locker and the three of them headed over to the gym for the assembly.

   The gym at Bridge-dale had bleachers on each side and for today, a podium had been set up in the middle. The floors were wooden and extremely shiny in a rather off putting manor. The basket ball nets on either side were tall black poles with silvery hoops and dark red back boards. They looked brand new as no one ever played basketball. At Bridge-Dale you either loved football or you were generally thought of as probably suffering major head trauma. Sherlock fell into the latter category, unlike John who was on the school team and widely regarded as one of the best players in the city.

   The principal walked out and five minutes later he was rambling on about fundraising for prom and Sherlock had zoned out. He wasn't going to prom, why would he? This didn't concern him and it was stupid that he had to be there. He was brainstorming some ideas for the science project he and John were doing when he felt someone flick the back of his head. He turned around and there, grinning down at him was Sebastian Wilkes.

   Sebastian Wilkes was on the football team. He had a group of followers, or 'friends' as he called them, but that really wasn't the the proper term for any of them, they would throw him under a bus without a moments hesitation if it would save their sorry asses. Sherlock knew what real friendship was, he had John.

   Sebastian was popular. He was big and tough so of course he was 'cool'. But Sebastian Wilkes was cruel.

   He was basically the bully of Bridge-dale High, he stole from peoples lockers, he beat up younger students and he mercillusory teased anyone who was in anyway different. This (paired with the fact that Sherlock had on beaten him on every single exam) pretty much ensured that he and the genius were very far from friends.

   "Holmes, how are we this fine morning?" Said Sebastian, obviously mocking Sherlocks posh family much to the amusement of the several members of the Sebastian Wilkes fan club scattered around their leader.

   "Awesome, thanks for asking" replied Sherlock with an exaggerated smile before letting his face fall back into its previous state of boredom and turning to face forward again. Maybe they'd just let him be...

   "Is that so?"

   ...Evidentially not.

   "Ya I'm great."

   "Well you see that surprises me considering I herd your dad was caught with another secretary, how many is that now? Five?"

   Sherlock felt his cheeks go red. He knew it was true, he knew Mycroft and his mother knew it was true, every single member of his family knew and no one ever said a word. They acted like they were a perfectly happy, everyday, ordinary family because no one dared mention that they weren't. That didn't explain how Sebastian had managed to figure it out though.

   "I mean really, everyone knows he's having a handful of affaires, why can't he just leave if he hates your family that much?"

   Sherlock knew he was being baited and he was not going to lose his cool.

   "Dunno, maybe he's just grateful we're not half as screwed up as your family"

   This time it was Sebastian who turned red. "Don't even start Holmes" he growled glaring at Sherlock as the brunette looked calmly up at him.

   Sherlock shrugged and turned back around. He wasn't about to let Sebastian Wilkes see just how much he wanted to punch him in the nose. It wasn't any of his business how fucked up Sherlock's family actually was. How did he even know?

   Whatever, it wasn't like it mattered what Sebastian said, Sherlock already knew his dad didn't care about any of them. Still didn't give Sebastian the right to talk about it but it wasn't like Sherlock was shocked, and Sebastian's family was pretty screwed too. Everyone knew his mom had died of cocaine overdose and his dad was suppose to be taking care of his children but was probably just letting one of the maids deal with them. Sebastian and his older sister Alexandra had the right to be upset about it but they didn't have the right to constantly take everything out on people smaller then them. Sebastian was just a jerk.

   Sherlock waited for the assembly to end and then headed for english. He should have told John by now, Sebastian was on the football team, they were friends, but Sebastian had never let John see him being a jerk and Sherlock never said a word. No need to involve John, things would just escalate, and Sherlock didn't want John to know. He could deal with this himself, kind of. Sometimes it got violent and Sherlock almost got his nose broken ounce or twice. He just couldn't make John a part of this. He was fine. Fine.

   He got to class, opened his book to page 253 and feel deep into thought while the teacher started rambling on about whatever they were supposed to be learning. He was fine. Really, who cares about Sebastian? Sherlock was _fine_.


	4. Psychics

Psychics

English was boring, as were calculus, geometry and art. John had texted him through science so that hadn't been so bad but Sherlock still left through the front doors with the sort of look he only got when he knew his time was being wasted and there wasn't much he could do about it. 

 

"One of those days?" Asked a small voice a little to the left. 

 

Sherlock turned around and there was Molly Hooper. She was smiling at him with that friendly smile that she'd adopted a while after James Moriarty had transferred from Ireland. It suited her, certainly more then the 'desperately cute' one she'd had until then.  Sherlock liked Molly, she was nice and relatively intelligent but she wasn't ... What was the word. John? There was probably a better one somewhere hidden in his ever expanding vocabulary but he didn't feel like looking. 

 

"Every day is 'one of those days' Molly. Good to see you though, not joined at the hip with the short one for once." 

 

Molly smiled at her shoes before looking back at him. "I guess we are together quite a lot, but its better then being apart. And He's not short you're just tall." 

 

"Fair enough."

 

"How've you been?"

 

"Brilliant."

 

"And people say you're actually a good liar."

 

"They do yes but as it might be useful to point out; that's irrelevant, I'm not lying."

 

"You are so full of it."

 

"I'm a complicated person."

 

"You know who says that? Extremely simple people who think they're clever."

 

"You think I'm a simple person who thinks I'm clever?"

 

"No, I think you're an insanely complex conundrum who knows he's brilliant but loves annoying everyone else by mocking simple people."

 

"You wound me."

 

"No I don't."

 

"... True."

 

" _Something_ does though, it's obvious. Something's always there, somewhere in that massive head of yours, taunting you every day no matter how much you try to make it go away. Oh don't look at me like that you don't exactly do an expert job at hiding it. What's on your mind Sherlock? Really?"

 

"Advanced calculus."

 

"Are you even trying to sound believable anymore?"

 

"Not really."

 

"Should I even be trying to get an answer?"

 

"Nope."

 

"Well, I guess you'll work it out then."

 

"I have a certain knack for working things out."

 

"You know, not to be arrogant or anything."

 

"You said it yourself, I know I'm brilliant."

 

"Am I ever going to hear the end of that?"

 

"Probably not."

 

"Wonderful, you really are full of it you know." 

 

"You used to be afraid to open your mouth to ask for someone to pass the salt. He's changed you."

 

Molly smiled at the sky. "Yeah," she replied passing in front of the boy and spinning around to face him as she walked backwards towards her bus. "I think he has." 

 

Sherlock smirked at her as she darted away. "For better or for worse Molly, for better or for worse." 

 

"And what are you mumbling about now?" 

 

John Watson appeared out of thin air directly behind the genius and leaned over to rest his chin on the taller boys shoulder. "I'm hungry wanna get food?" 

 

"Not really."

 

"See that's a lie to cover up how much you love going to McDonalds."

 

"I don't even know how you eat that stuff."

 

"Liar, last time you ate half a burger and a large fries."

 

"Last time we'd just spend five hours chasing a kid on a bike all over town trying to get an address, that was different."

 

"Whatever you say, point is I'm starving and you're actually very enabling when it suits you. To crappy food and worse decor, onwards!" 

 

With that John skipped and twirled before running off towards the bus stop. Sherlock grinned a little watching him go. John was such an idiot but somehow he managed to make idiocy seem almost admirable.

 

Once Sherlock reached the stop John was on his phone texting someone, a friend probably but it could be Harry trying to bother him. "Has it ever occurred to you that being a moron occasionally is, I don't know, fun? Does the concept mean anything to you?"

 

John was, of course, occasionally psychic.

 

"Corse it does, remember a few weeks ago when that one cop let us into the scene of the crime and I figured it out in under fifteen minutes?" 

 

"You are freakishly amazing."

 

"I'll take that as a compliment."

 

"You can take it however you want but keep in mind that not everyone is going to find that fun so if you every get any sort of romantic relationship remember that I warned you about decapitations and dates, they're not a good combo." 

 

It always felt a little weird if John brought up his best mates love life. It just reminded Sherlock of just how much he was hiding from the only person he really cared about. It hurt, and there was nothing he could do about that except pretend it didn't. 

 

"Yeah yeah, whatever."

 

The bus pulled up so Sherlock got out his pass and John flipped his phone into his pocket. 

 

Fifteen minutes later they were sitting at McDonalds. 

 

  
_Fuck,_ thought the brunette, watching as John ate, _I've got it bad._  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay... I know, I havnt been on in I don't even know how long, but I've been inspired again and I want to keep this up. If you still want to read my updates that would be great, or if you've lost intrest that's okay, or if you just got here the hey, you made it to the end of chapter four so I hope you like it. I'm sorry about the major hiatus but I'll try to write more now. (Summer holidays woooooo) hope you like it :)


	5. Human Interaction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so I took a month... but I think that's actually better than last time and I'm not sure whether that's good or just depressing. Hope you like it anyway :)

**Human Interaction**

 

The next morning was challenging for numerous reasons but most of them were either Mycroft or John.

On the list of problems being caused by Mycroft there was Mycroft being too groggy to see straight and almost walking right into his little brother, Mycroft eating loudly, Mycroft's infuriating smile every time his phone lit up to tell him Gregory Lestrade had texted and the number of times all of these things happened.

On the list of problems that didn't appear to have anyone Sherlock could blame there was the taste of toothpaste, not being able to find any apples, burning himself on the kettle and the buzz of his alarm clock.

On the list of problems that had to do with John... well the list was endless really but there were several that were specific to this particular morning. The top three were probably John not texting him back about they're science project, The memory of John yesterday at the McDonalds checking out the pretty redhead behing the counter and Sherlock waking up and remembering the smell of his best friend from the night before only to realize it was gone.

All in all this morning was already going pretty terribly when Henry called and told him about Sarah Elizabeth Sawyer.

 

••~~~~~~~~~~~~~••

“She's just... I can't believe I'd never noticed her before I mean, she's gorgeous.”

They were on the bus. Sherlock was looking out the window and John was smiling like an idiot and talking at the roof. Sherlock wouldn't mind if... no. That was a lie. Whatever he'd been about to think, he knew it wasn't true, John was in love with another girl and there was nothing that would make that any less painful.

“I mean she's smart and funny and really cool and I think you'll like her, if you give her a chance, honestly, you never like any of the girls I date. But then I suppose you barely like anyone so it shouldn't really come as much of a surprise.”

“Mm that's nice. Our stop.”

Sherlock stood quickly and followed as his best friend wandered out of the bus, and then eventually into the school.

John shot off as soon as they stepped through the doors leaving Sherlock to himself. The genius sighed and pulled out his phone in order to find Henry, the boy had a habit of getting lost in crowds... or a group larger than five. Really he was just good at getting lost.

They met dangerously close to Mrs. Angleski's English class room, somewhere it seemed they were both avoiding. Sherlock was skipping, Henry didn't actually have English this semester but Mrs Angleski terrified him.

“Hey, what do you have this period?”

“Geography, why?”

“What's the capital of Oklahoma?”

“Uh, Oklahoma City... “

“You're fine, let's go get something to eat.”

“Fair enough.”

“I should join the debate team.”

“No you really shouldn't.”

“... yeah you're probably right.”

They left out the back and caught a bus to the furthest restaurant Sherlock could remember, which happened to be McDonald's.

They walked in and judging from the way Henry was looking at him his poker face was failing him. He looked away and examined their surroundings. The floor was sticky and decore was just depressing (though perhaps not quite as depressing as the cashier, about 17, dyed blond hair, chewed-on but still electric blue nails, small cut on the side of her neck and a spot near her collar bone that was obviously from a necklace she'd been wearing when she tanned.)

“May I help you?” she asked tonelessly. She turned to the left and checked the reflection of her make-up on the screen of her phone to emphasize just how little she cared whether she could help them.

Sherlock sighed. “I'll have a large drink. And no, that new shade of blue will not make your ex-boyfriend love you again, if he ever did to begin with.”

“WHAT?”

“SHERLOCK! I'm so sorry, he's like this sometimes.”

Henry grabbed his friend by the wrist and steered him forcefully to a table near the far wall.

“What is wrong with you? And no, before you answer that I don't care if her boyfriend left her you don't just- ugh.”

The teenager took a deep breath and lay his head in his hands. They sat in silence before Henry spoke again.

“Alright fine, let's hear it.'

“What?”

“Her boyfriend left her?”

“Oh, well that's a little obviously isn't it?'

From the death stare the other boy was shooting at him Sherlock deduced that it was, in fact, not obvious to everyone.

“Or not” he muttered leaning back in his chair.

“She's been wearing a necklace, not only that but she didn't remove it for tanning. She never wanted to take it off, also, she wanted to show it off, wanted all her friends to see, so, given to her by a boyfriend, or girlfriend but the formers more likely in this case. The small cut on her neck? She ripped it off, recently in fact, cuts still there. She didn't just take it off, she _ripped_ it off, she was upset with whoever gave it to her. Then there's her hair, phone, and general persona. All about appearances. She was checking her make-up, it's new, you can- I mean, _I_ can tell. But that wasn't all she was doing, the way she looked at her phone, she didn't just want to see beautiful eyes that no boy could resist, she wanted to see the screen to light up and tell her he was calling. Then there's her nails, she's been biting them but they're still long so she gave up nail biting, they grew out, but she's recently fallen back on her old habits, she was too upset to even notice she was doing it. After they were bitten, they were painted, she's still trying for the whole pretty, popular  girl thing, she still wants him to think she's pretty, she wants him to see what he gave up, she wants him to be sorry he let her go.”

Henry stared at him as Sherlock gazed outside. He smiled a little and chuckled to himself. Sherlock's definition of the word obvious was a little off but you could really blame him for being a genius.

“Alright,” he said “now seriously Sherlock, what's wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

“Okay one, you've look frustrated all day and you skipped class, two, you were twice as much of an asshole than you usually are, I think she almost started crying, and three, we're at McDonald's. You hate McDonald's.”

Sherlock didn't answer so Henry just rolled his eyes and got up to go order.

It was only 11:48 am but it was already turning out to be a very disagreeable day.


	6. Potentially a risk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> k it's short but they're all short and it took a little less then a month this time so I'm getting better... kinda.

**Potentially** **a risk**

 

Henry decided that he wasn't going to ignore his education all day and caught a bus so that he'd be at Bridge dale in time for French. Sherlock wasn't in the mood so he sat at their table for a while before finally being kicked out and walking to a park he knew of, several blocks from the McDonalds with a pond. He threw the occasional stone into the water and checked his phone for the kind of music he needed, mentally cursing himself for having no idea what kind of music that was. Usually he liked classical but right now... well truth be told right now he didn't now what could possibly make him feel better.

“Nothing huh?”

Sherlock turned around sharply. He'd entered the park with the assumption that he was alone. He didn't know how long she'd been sitting there but there was a girl on a swing wearing a knee length dark red dress and holding a book. Her hair was short, her make-up was perfect, and she smiled at him like this was her favourite game in the world.

“Irene, it's been a while.”

“I had other things desperately begging for my attention.”

“The superintendent's daughter?”

“Oh her for one, definitely. Don't tell me your jealous?”

“Ah, no.”

“Pity you've become more attractive, taller too.”

“Irene.” “Right, no, my bad, you're not interested, I know... So you and John are still inseparable I take it?”

“... What are you insinuating?”

“Hmm? Oh nothing, nothing at all. Simply observing. It's interesting isn't it? How yesterday he started dating someone and here you are, right now, skipping class in favour of abusing some rocks and glaring at your phone.”

“I refuse to have this conversation with you.”

“Fine, don't have it with me, have it with him.”

“No.”

“Oh for god sakes Sherlock, ask him out already.”

“Why the hell would I do that?”

“Because you've been in love with him so long that it's just becoming more pathetic by the minute.”

“He's not in love with me... I mean, no. I'm not in love with him... and he's not in love with me. No one's in love with anyone. Well I suppose John and Sarah maybe but I doubt it, I think I've met her, tedious girl, awful really, she probably doesn't deserve him... I mean... fuck.”

“Sherlock, it's fine. You can't hide from me what I already know.”

“You underestimate me?”

“Um, obviously I don't.”

“... touchè.”

Sherlock blinked at her for a second before closing his eyes tightly, sighing and collapsing into the swing beside her.

“When did I get this pitiful?”

“Oh you've always been pitiful” She grinned, pushing her self back a little and letting her self swing forward.

He smiled a little and looked up at her. “Suppose I have.”

Her sandals were new and her book was old and Irene was somewhere in the middle. The way she spoke sometimes you could mistake her for twenty or occasionally for five. It was strange, watching her and realizing how she was just another teenager like him or John or anyone else. Sherlock smiled at her and asked her what she was reading, even though he could see that it was Oscar Wilde. They talked for a while before she had to go. He didn't ask where and she didn't tell but either way he was still sitting alone on a weekday afternoon with nothing to do but feel bitter, again.

The terrible thought wasn't even that this Sarah might be stupid or boring or terrible for John. The terrible thought was that there was a chance she was perfect. There was a chance John wold see Sarah Sawyer the way that Sherlock Holmes saw him. And if Sarah fit into him so well that John fell in love with her, truly and completely, Sherlock didn't know what he'd do.

He fretted for a while before leaving the park. He wasn't sure where he'd go but he was no stranger to mindlessly wandering London. He ate dinner at a diner and by 7:23 he was sitting on a bench outside an old warehouse with a bottle of beer in his hand, his second but who was counting. His fingers were fiddling with his phone and by 7:26 he'd sighed, taken a rather larger swig of his beverage and typed out a short message.

**'We need to talk. -SH'**

The time was near the top of the screen, it read 7:27, and Sherlock hit send.


End file.
